you told me to prep for a new season, that what was dying is now dead
said we must steel ourselves with warmth against the first frost, it was the worst no
it was a testament or
just a test
& here, where we carve our winters from the gentle curve of the ampersand
from punctuation that's meant to bring us closer but only moves us further apart
like the swell of a gentle tide &
even the beach must face bitter winds filled with eburnean matter meant to cling to our skin
we will reenact this act, this ampersand
you are the skin
i am the surf no
i am the sand
no
i am the snow
&
nothing is warm

It's windy. The cool breeze of the ocean.
It gives,, a sense of beauty, in motion.
All is flowing, rushing and tide-
And I sit in wonder, dreaming beside.

Shells line the shore, lining and lining.
The sun is above, shining and shining.
The surf will speak softly, whispering in time,
"Oh my Love, will you deign to be mine?"

So I speak to the ocean, the Mother of all.
There's no other sound but the waves rise and fall.
Crashing, rushing, babbling in tune
Echoes the evening softness, coming so soon.

Just because I'm from California
Doesn't mean I smoke ****
Doesn't mean I’m a surfer
And doesn't mean I am an actor
Just because I’m from California
Doesn't mean I’m an “air head”
Doesn't mean I go to the beach everyday
Doesn't mean I’m a crazy environmentalist
Just because I’m from California
Doesn't mean I eat avocados with everything
Doesn't mean I long board instead of drive
Doesn't mean I’m an actor
Just because I’m from California
Why do I have to smoke ****?
What school is close enough to surf to?
Why do I have to go to the beach everyday?
I’m just like other Americans.